


one minute all undone

by statusquo_ergo



Series: welcome to the neon city [4]
Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Things you said at the kitchen table, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statusquo_ergo/pseuds/statusquo_ergo
Summary: Easy like Sunday mornings.
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Series: welcome to the neon city [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023864
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	one minute all undone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Things you said at the kitchen table
> 
> Because we’re all in need of a bit of cheering! Set some canon-divergent time after the end of the series. Or before the end of the series, depending on when canon diverged. Whatever, the point is they’re an established couple and yes this is going _exactly_ where you think it’s going.

They don’t always have time for breakfast. Well, that’s not strictly true; they run the firm, they can show up whenever they feel like it and no one would say a damn thing. Breakfast could take three hours, if they wanted it to, they could waltz through the doors at half past eleven without anything that even sounded like an apology. Not that they _would;_ not that Harvey would be so irresponsible, not that Mike would leave their employees hanging like that, but if they wanted to, theoretically. The option is there.

Sundays, though. Sundays are for them.

What that usually means is that Sundays are for sleeping in, but every once in a while, every now and then, the day hits a little different, the sun shines a little brighter, and the rich aroma of a freshly brewed pot of coffee tempts Mike out of bed toward the sizzle of frying bacon or a slab of french toast or whatever Harvey’s in the mood to whip up that day. Those mornings are the his favorites. Not that Sundays aren’t always great, but those Sundays are the best.

Usually.

This Sunday morning in particular, Mike is lured into the kitchen by the percolating coffeemaker to find Harvey at the stove, flipping blueberry pancakes and tending to a small saucepan of maple syrup warming over a low flame with a very private smile on his face that vanishes the instant he notices Mike settling in at the island. And Mike appreciates the indulgence of it all, and the effort Harvey is putting in and everything, but that smile thing, that’s a little…odd. Is Harvey going to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear? Ask him to do something he doesn’t want to do? There’s not much in the world Mike would deny him, he should know that much, so what…

Wait. Wait, shit, wait, this is about the Andretti case. This is about Yorker and Harrison suddenly threatening to pull out of the merger agreement Harvey’s favorite associate has been working on for the past six months if Andretti doesn’t double his capital investments by like…Friday, or something. Harvey is going to ask him to storm the barricades and pull a solution out of thin air to save the day. This isn’t _breakfast,_ this is a _bribe._

God dammit, Harvey. He’s not falling for that one, not again.

He can’t come right out and refuse point blank, though. For one thing, Harvey might suddenly stop cooking like the petulant little shit he is, and Mike really doesn’t want to waste all that food when he could eat it instead. For another, it’s not as though Harvey will give up trying to get him to sign on to the project after one measly rejection, and Mike doesn’t particularly want to spend the entirety of the next week on pins and needles, sunk into a paranoid haze where every nice thing his boyfriend says to him is a just another stepping stone toward begging him to pull out his white cape and play Avenging Attorney.

Fine. He can play the long game, too. Putting a big old smile on his face, Mike leans across the counter and takes a pointed sniff of the oncoming feast that makes Harvey turn around with an answering grin, the spatula nearly slipping from his hand before he tightens his grip.

“Morning,” he says, turning back to the stove.

“Morning,” Mike echoes, settling back into his chair. “Blueberry?”

“Sorry, we were out of chocolate chips.”

“We definitely aren’t, but I might be able to forgive you if the orange juice is freshly squeezed.”

Harvey snorts an undignified little laugh; he must know Mike is going to turn him down. “Have you always been this needy?” he asks lightly.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘driven.’”

“The word I’m looking for is ‘demanding.’”

Mike shrugs. “At least I know what I want.”

Or don’t want. Go on, just _try_ passing this one off. See how far you get.

Harvey plates a couple of pancakes and shakes his head. “The crap I put up with from you…”

Kind of a weird segue into asking such a big favor, but Mike won’t be fooled into dropping his guard just yet. He’s no rookie.

“I’d say we’re on pretty equal ground there.”

“Yeah.” Harvey turns off the burners and reaches into the cabinet for a carafe for the syrup. “You might be right.”

Mike frowns. Harvey isn’t even going to make a token argument against that? No fight at all? Huh. It’s not the _worst_ tactic he could’ve chosen; too bad for him, Mike came prepared.

“I know I am.”

Harvey just smiles as he sets a plate down in front of Mike, and this is starting to get a little creepy. Might as well start the ball rolling, then; better to get it over with.

“So,” Mike says, pulling the carafe toward himself, “anything special you wanted to do today?”

Harvey shakes his head and picks up his fork.

“I didn’t have anything in mind.”

Mike nods slowly. “Right,” he says. “So… Okay then.”

They eat in silence until Mike’s stack of pancakes is reduced by half, and Harvey seems to have finished about…one.

Mike drops his fork down on the counter. “Alright what—”

“Actually there—”

They both cut themselves off, and Mike narrows his eyes as Harvey widens his.

“What?”

“No,” Mike says. “No, what were you going to say?”

There are only so many hours in the day, and the sooner this is done with, the sooner he can relax and enjoy them. He grits his teeth as Harvey takes a breath and drops his hands down to his lap.

“Actually,” Harvey repeats, “there was something I wanted to do today.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike smiles tightly. “What’s that?”

Harvey casts his eyes down for a minute, not completely closed but definitely turned away. Wait, so, wait, actually, maybe this isn’t about the Andretti case. Maybe this isn’t about work at all. Or— Is it? Anything with as much buildup as this has to be big. Maybe—maybe Harvey is sick of the firm. Maybe he’s finally gotten sick of the grind, sick of the hours and hours of his life he’s given over to the law, everything he’s lost, all the sacrifices he’s made. Maybe he needs a change, maybe he wants to start over in some little town in Iowa where nobody knows his name, to throw away the life he’s built for himself, the life _they’ve_ built for themselves, maybe— Maybe he wants Mike to throw his life away too, to go somewhere else and find something new, to start from scratch and build themselves from the ground back up.

And maybe he’s afraid to ask Mike to make that kind of sacrifice, maybe he’s afraid he’ll say no, because he would, wouldn’t he? Would he? Would it be so bad, really, to start over together? To make a life together, something just for them where they could be whoever, _whatever_ they wanted? Could they do it? Would they make it? Would Mike be willing to try? Would Harvey go without him if he wasn’t? Would Mike let himself be trapped into a relationship so lopsided, so dismissive of his wants and needs, so shaped around Harvey’s sudden wanderlust? Would Harvey be able to stand it, doing that to him? Knowing he was doing it to himself? Is that what this is all about, is that what all of this is hurtling toward? Is it?

Rationally, probably not. In all likelihood.

But what if it _is?_

Mike blinks a couple of times, coming out of his own head to find Harvey looking at him with the most intensely calm expression Mike has ever seen on anybody, anywhere, ever.

“Mike,” Harvey says. “You— Do you like your life? Our life together?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. All these goddamn questions and no fucking answers, how dare Harvey spring this on him without any warning? That bastard, what’s he trying to pull?

“Yes,” Mike says slowly. “Are we breaking up?”

Harvey’s lips twist into a smirk, his shoulders twitching back. “Not on my account. Do you want to?”

Mike frowns. “No?”

“Well that’s good.” Harvey’s arm moves like he’s put his hand on his hip, or into his pocket, and he leans forward as Mike’s eyes dart toward the motion and then back up to Harvey’s face. “Because I was thinking about making my mistake official.”

Making— What? He isn’t— This isn’t— This couldn’t—

What?

Harvey grins in that way he has where his eyes sparkle and crinkle up at the corners, his mouth wide like he’s trying not to show his teeth because it’s the only way to keep himself from laughing, and he pushes a little black velvet box forward that can’t possibly mean anything other than exactly what it means, can’t possibly hold anything other than what Mike knows it must, and this is— He can’t— This doesn’t—

_What?_

“Mike.”

With enormous effort, Mike wrenches his eyes away from the box and fixes them on Harvey’s.

“So will you marry me or what?”

“I.”

A second ticks by, and another, and two more. Maybe three. Harvey reaches out to open the box, the heavy platinum band glinting as he nudges it closer.

“What do you say?”

What—

“I say— I say yes.” Mike stares down at the ring. “I mean. Obviously. Yes.”

Being that Mike seems to have more or less frozen in his seat, Harvey slips the ring from its velvet pillow and motions for him to lift his hand.

“You seem surprised,” Harvey teases, sliding the ring onto Mike’s finger. A perfect fit, naturally; Mike doesn’t even know his own ring size, how the hell did Harvey figure it out?

“A little bit, yeah,” Mike says, tilting his hand to catch the light. “I thought you were going to ask me to take over the Andretti case.”

Harvey tilts his head. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“ _No._ ”

“Yeah, fine, so are you gonna kiss me or what?”

“God, Harvey, have you always been this needy?”

(But Mike kisses him anyway.)

**Author's Note:**

> “Okay. You want to be legit, there’s only one way. You go to a small town in Iowa where nobody’s ever heard of Harvey Specter, Jessica Pearson, or anybody else, you go to law school, hang out your shingle. Nobody will ever know. I guarantee you’d be king of the hill. But you could never come back to the mountain. Not here in New York, Chicago, or L.A. Someone’ll know someone, and it’ll all be for nothing.”  
> “I can’t do that, and you know it.”  
> —Harvey and Mike, “Heartburn” (s03e14)
> 
> “Business cards. Yep. My mistake is now official.”  
> —Harvey, to Mike, “Bail Out” (s01e05)
> 
> Feel free to say hi on [tumblr](https://statusquoergo.tumblr.com)!


End file.
